


Never Thought You'd Make Me Perspire, Never Thought I'd Do You The Same

by cigarettestainedeyes



Category: Shameless (TV), Shameless (US)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Handcuffs, M/M, Top Mickey Milkovich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-22
Updated: 2011-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-23 22:53:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cigarettestainedeyes/pseuds/cigarettestainedeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian really wants that kiss. Mickey really wants to try his handcuffs out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Thought You'd Make Me Perspire, Never Thought I'd Do You The Same

Ian’s house was a home of course. He’d grown up there so why shouldn’t it make him feel complete in every way possible? A dream such as that is fine for a two people who love each other, or even roommates who occasionally have sex, so maybe it was because of that. Maybe it was because of the lack of orgasms he was having within those walls. Actually, yes, he was damn sure it was a fact. It never seemed to fulfill him more than Mickey’s bedroom; pushed hard against the mattress he felt more at home than anywhere else in the world but there was a continuing problem stumbling around inside his head. Mickey would nibble down his neck, suck on his collarbone, and even spend a decent amount of time mapping out the inside of his thighs on the days when Ian _allowed_ him to top. He would not, however, kiss him on the mouth. It was infuriating to Ian especially when he was so close to an orgasm and wanted to feel like he belonged to Mickey entirely.

It was another afternoon of them laying together in bed with Ian twisting against the sheets in need. They hadn’t even taken their shirts off but Mickey was doing a fine job of turning him on, thumbs rubbing at his nipples through his tank top, biting at his neck like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Ian was trying to hold off on coming because Mickey would never let him hear the end of it if he came in his jeans. Still, Mickey didn’t kiss him.

“I’ve been…been thinking.” Ian choked out as Mickey’s stubble brushed against his neck, sending a sharp twinge of arousal down his spine.

“Told you to stop doing that.” Mickey mumbled, muffled due to his mouth being busy.

“Listen.” Ian said, trying to calm his dick down for ten seconds so he could get this out properly. “Re-remember when you were talking about tying me up?” Mickey chose not to respond, instead slipping his hand down Ian’s jeans and squeezing him through his boxers to show his appreciation for where this conversation was going.

“I’ve been thinking about letting you.” Ian continued through the thick haze clouding his thought process.

“Finally caving?” Mickey laughed roughly against his ear.

“Yeah, sure, but first I…I want something too.”

“Name it.” Mickey replied immediately. Ian almost smiled at how willing Mickey was when it came to getting the chance to make Ian defenseless. He raised his head a little bit to meet Ian’s eyes.

“Kiss me.”

Mickey didn’t grimace exactly, it was more like something undistinguishable was shoved in his face and he didn’t know what to do with it. His nose scrunched up and his mouth sneered in an almost smug reaction.

“That’s your swap agreement? One kiss and I get to tie you up?”

Ian shrugged the best he could in his current position. “It’s all I want.” He said seriously.

Mickey just shook his head a little and kissed him so suddenly that Ian was afraid he would miss it. His hands gripped at Mickey’s hair quickly and he held on as if to prevent the kiss from ending before he could fully appreciate it. Mickey let out a muffled chuckle and Ian opened his mouth to meet Mickey’s tongue halfway. Ian’s body tingled with anticipation. It reminded him of the few times he and Kash would make out before fucking, that slow and steady build up that trumped any fast fuck he had ever experienced. The process was still the same but the feeling of kissing Mickey was ten times better. Kash was always so shy whereas Mickey wasn’t even remotely embarrassed. He mapped out Ian’s mouth with a demanding tongue and when Mickey pulled away Ian was red and breathless.

He hopped off Ian with a strange kind of excitement buzzing through him, making Ian watch him carefully.

“What’re you—“

“Handcuffs.” Mickey cut him off sharply.

Ian’s eyes got wide. He agreed, sure, but he didn’t know that meant _rightnowthissecond_. Mickey was back on him in a flash, pushing him down and straddling his hips with two sets of cuffs in his hand, one black and the other silver. Ian didn’t bother asking where he got them because the answer would probably make him even more worried about Mickey than he already was.

“Your family—“

“Dad’s gone for the weekend at a buddy’s house—going away party—and Mandy and the other two are all busy. We have plenty of time.” Mickey rattled off their whereabouts as if he’d been expecting Ian to question him and hell, maybe he had been.

Ian’s breathing became labored and it felt like lightning was shooting through his veins as Mickey worked the first handcuff around his wrist before latching the other end of it to one of the rungs on the headboard.

“Please tell me you have the keys for these?” Ian asked with a dry mouth. The idea of being tied up for days wasn’t that appealing, even if it meant constantly being around Mickey.

“Yeah, yeah, they’re somewhere round here, quit yer bitchin’.” Mickey mumbled and went to work on the other wrist, grinning almost evilly when they were both in place.

It was then that it dawned on Mickey that Ian’s shirt was still on. “Fucking god.” He groaned and forced himself not to roll his eyes at his own incompetence.

“Huh?” Ian asked nervously at the outburst.

Mickey just shook his head and grabbed at the shirt, yanking it up and over Ian’s head the best he could while his arms hung above him, wrists shifting to get use to the bite of the metal. It was kind of fucking beautiful. Ian’s hair was in his eyes, he was still doing that weird panting thing and Mickey’s gaze made him flush. It was new for both of them. They’d never spent much time looking at each other. It was mostly blind grabbing and quick fumbles. Mickey never really noticed how easily Ian turned red and how visible it was beneath those freckles. He put his knuckles under Ian’s chin then stuck out his pointer finger, the digit making Ian look up.

“Like a fucking boy, aren’t you?” He growled as if it was the most preposterous thing he’d ever heard in his entire life.

Ian didn’t mention the fact that he was sixteen.

Neither of them ever did.

He shocked Ian by kissing him again, framing his face with his hands and delving right between chapped lips with a hot tongue, doing things Ian couldn’t properly identify that caused his body to twitch, his arms to yank down and shock him again and again when he came up short, a gasp emitting the first time it happened and a moan the next. It was strangely and potentially insane for this sort of circumstance to turn him on but he felt his cock twitch in anticipation.

Mickey’s hands were everywhere as he slid down Ian’s body, first pushing against his chest while his mouth traced shapes against his slowly forming abs then making Ian shiver as they lowered down to his stomach, the hairs on his body standing at attention.

Ian almost screamed in thanks when Mickey started dragging his jeans down, tossing them aside and then disposing of his boxers.

Oh yeah, Mickey could get used to this. There was nothing feminine about Ian aside from his cheeks and occasionally the look in his eyes and okay, yeah, his hips did that swaying thing when he walked. He was hard and hairy and sharp, the angles of his body stretched out like a treasure map for Mickey to tiptoe through.

There’d be plenty of time for that later though. He’d eventually get to know every freckle and made a mental note to do so when he wasn’t so blindly horny. His fingers found the hem of his tank top before he processed what he was doing and then it was gone followed by his pants and his own underwear. Something about the air in the south side of Chicago made everyone ghostly pale and Mickey was sure he’d walked by dozens upon dozens of lifeless, chilled bodies that probably looked the exact same shade underneath all of their clothing. Regardless of this fact something about the way Ian was coated in a sheen of sweat with a dark, red cock standing proudly made everyone else pale – even more so – in comparison.

Ian jolted and let out a gasp when Mickey began sucking and licking at his cock, the veins along the side and the general shape of it familiar to him. It was easy to make Ian shake under his tongue. Soon enough he was lifting his hips, fucking Mickey’s mouth and saying Mickey’s name mixed with things like _don’t stop_ that kept coming up short because Mickey would always switch up his technique, faster than Ian could register. And Ian could taste the orgasm, so close and fast and his toes curled and he could see the stars—

Mickey stopped.

“You fucking asshole.” Ian bit out with a strangely monotone voice. He supposed it was because Mickey had actually done this before, prolonged the climax once or twice before letting it hit the fan—no pun intended.

“Well that’s not going to get you an orgasm.” Mickey joked and reached across Ian for a bottle of cheap oil-based lube. It probably wasn’t the healthiest kind out there but fuck, it was better than spit and so what if it was a generic brand? It got the job done.

Ian hadn’t anticipated Mickey actually fucking him while he was in this position. A blowjob surely, but the whole nine yards? He wouldn’t be able to hold Mickey, which, yeah, sounded super fucking gay but whatever.

It was happening so fast. Ian’s legs were on Mickey’s shoulders and Mickey was greasing up his ass like a car engine. Probably not the best analogy but you try thinking up something witty in this situation. Mickey pushed in, no fingers first, like always. He liked it rough and always did something to make Ian second guess their arrangement, whether it was the time he yanked him up by his hair while Ian was on all fours or when Mickey wrapped an unforgiving hand around his neck. Despite the almost animalistic acts, Mickey really knew when enough was enough. He knew about sex, Ian didn’t ask questions although he flat out said _no_ when Mickey wanted to bring hot wax into play, or when he desperately wanted to fuck Ian with _Closer_ or _Inside of You_ playing in the background. He was strangely intelligent when it came to sex acts.

Ian groaned lowly when Mickey was fully in him, and surprised when Mickey paused for a second. Ian liked to believe it was so he could get used to it but it was probably because Mickey was admiring his red-rimmed wrists under the cuffs. Then he pulled out and pushed back in quickly and Ian arched, pushing back against him slowly. After that it was all fast moving thrusts, in and out until Ian was only seeing flickers of Mickey’s face between his fluttering eyelids, listening to Mickey letting out these muffled gasps of pleasure, burying his neck in Ian’s face for a few seconds before biting harshly.

Ian was surprised by his orgasm. It snuck up on him far too quickly but right before the full effect slammed him into an incoherent state he fought out the words, “Kiss me,” and Mickey did, thrusting into him roughly and making the kiss electric as Ian’s world turned to fizzles and sparks of light. Mickey didn’t slow down for a second, even when Ian’s chest and part of his own was streaked with cooling cum. If anything he went faster. They’d never attempted multiple orgasms, usually at least waiting a few minutes before going on to round two but apparently it was a day full of tests. Ian curled his hands into fists and shouted when Mickey slammed into his sensitive prostate, then sagged against the mattress when Mickey finally came as well.

They both panted from exhaustion. Ian’s wrists were raw. Half of him wanted to let them hang and suffer the abuse because he was so drained, the other half of him wanted to hold them up to prevent permanent marking. Mickey’s weight was heavy and warm and Ian whimpered a little when he pulled out.

“Cuffs.” Ian reminded him gently.

Mickey grunted and started shuffling around the room for the key, pulling on sweatpants in the process and finally uncovering a small ring of cheap, flat keys after fishing around his dresser drawers for a few minutes.

He unlocked Ian without making eye contact.

“So, was it everything you thought it would be?” Ian teased, rubbing his wrists soothingly, looking around for some lotion to coat them with.

Mickey sat beside him on the bed, rubbing the back of his neck slowly. “Nothing like I imagined, actually.”

Ian’s face deflated into a crushing expression. He straightened up and found his underwear, pulling it on roughly before doing the same with his jeans. Mickey watched with a stoned face.

“Why are you all pissy?” He asked

Ian just shook his head and got his head through the hole in his shirt almost violently. “Next time you want to try out on of your kinks, find someone else.” He spat.

“Whoa, why the fuck are you mad?” Mickey stood up and grabbed his shoulder, turning Ian to face him.

“Oh, I don’t know, _nothing like I imagined_.” He imitated Mickey’s monotone voice but added a smug authoritarian ring to it.

Mickey blinked before rolling his eyes. “I meant it was _better_ than I imagined.”

Ian looked stunned. “Are…are you serious?”

“God you’re dramatic.” In Mickey language that meant _yes you twat_.

Ian’s face morphed into a fleeting half-grin before he kissed Mickey without asking. He expected a punch or a shove but Mickey’s hands were on his hips, pulling him forward and pushing his mouth hard against Ian’s.

“Paranoid fuck.” Mickey said when they pulled apart for air.

“Thank you.” Ian replied.

“So…” Mickey paused. “Does this mean I can get you to wear that uniform with the tie?” He asked in an aloof tone.

“Fuck off.” Ian spoke with fondness rather than contempt.


End file.
